He licked his lips, his internal struggle visible on his face. I could practically see the war between his desire and his duty playing out behind those blue eyes.
“What I want...” he started, then stopped, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, there was a new resolve there. “I don’t want anything.”
I laughed softly, finally wrapping the towel around my waist. “Everyone wants somethin’, Pastor. Even you. Question is, how long can you deny yourself?”
I brushed past him, making sure my bare shoulder grazed his chest as I moved toward my room. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away, could sense his inner turmoil.
“Cash,” he called after me, his voice stronger now.
I paused, looking back at him. “Yeah?”
“Once you get dressed, you should come talk to me so we can work through… whatever it is you’re going through.”
My face fell immediately, my joyful torture forgotten. “Or,” I said, glaring back at him. “How about you mind your own fuckin’ business?”
“You want someone to listen, Cash. I can see it in your eyes.”
I couldn’t help but scoff. “The only thing I want,Pastor, is a piece of ass and a big check so I can leave this down behind forever. And unless you’re handing one of those things out, you can piss off.”
Chapter 10
Mike
Oh, sweet baby Jesus… why was I still rock hard?
You’d think, after I’d been yelled at by Cash and he’d practically slammed his door in my face, that the mood would be shot. But I found the situation to be exactly the opposite. I was standing there, in the hallway, my dick painfully hard in my jeans, practically drooling over this grumpy asshole that had just told me to piss off.
What was wrong with me?
I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, trying to get my breathing under control. The image of Cash standing before me completely naked, water droplets sliding down that perfect chest, trailing through the dark hair that led to his thick, half-hard cock... God help me, I couldn’t banish it from my mind.
I should have been offended by his crudeness. Should have been put off by his anger and hostility. Instead, I was achingly hard and fighting the urge to follow him into his bedroom.
“Get it together, Mike,” I whispered to myself, pressing the heel of my palm against my erection.
I stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. The mirror reflected a man I barely recognized. I had flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and my hair was mussed from runningmy fingers through it too many times. I looked...desperate.Hungry.
The bathroom still smelled like him, that intoxicating mix of soap and raw masculinity. Steam lingered on the mirror, and I could see where his hand had wiped a clear spot. Had he looked at himself and planned this whole encounter? Had he deliberately dropped that towel, knowing exactly what it would do to me?
Of course he had. Cash wasn’t subtle about his intentions. He was playing with me, toying with my desires like a cat with a mouse. And God forgive me, I was letting him.
I turned on the cold water and splashed my face, trying to cool the heat that had settled in my skin. It didn’t help. Nothing would help except...
No. I couldn’t go there. I was a pastor, for heaven’s sake. I had responsibilities, a congregation that trusted me. I couldn’t give in to temptation just because a handsome, damaged man was deliberately trying to seduce me.
But as I dried my face with a towel, maybe the same one Cash had just used, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. Every interaction between us pushed me closer to the edge, and sooner or later, I was going to fall.
I left the bathroom on unsteady legs and retreated to my study, the one place in the house that felt truly mine. I needed to focus on something else, anything else. There was sermon preparation to do, calls to make about the rebuilding efforts.
Instead, I found myself staring blankly at the wall, replaying every moment with Cash in vivid detail. The way his eyes had darkened when he looked at me. The slight smirk that tugged at his lips when he caught me staring. The taste of his cock on my lips that night in the living room.
“Focus,” I muttered, pulling out my Bible and flipping to a random page. My eyes landed on a verse from Proverbs: “Like acity whose walls are broken through is a person who lacks self-control.”
I slammed the book shut. Even Scripture was mocking me now.
A knock at the study door made me jump. I quickly arranged myself behind the desk, hoping it would hide my persistent arousal.
“Come in,” I called, my voice steadier than I felt.
